


Wysteria

by Raisans_Grapeon



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, God fucking why, Grotesque descriptions, Heavy Angst, Horror, Hurt No Comfort, Mutilation, Survival Horror, Survivor Guilt, cannot stress this enough, this will ruin your day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 06:44:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17699549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raisans_Grapeon/pseuds/Raisans_Grapeon
Summary: 7 year old Ryan is the new kid on the block. He meets an instant group of friends, Shane, TJ, Devon, and Sara. Together, they decide to have adventures together, and always meet up under Ryan's willow tree, they have named Wysteria. Their first mission, explore the woods behind Ryan's house.





	Wysteria

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. Welcome to hell.
> 
> This is a horror story, meant to be scary, unsettling, and VERY gory. There is also death and very disturbing concepts in this story. If you feel like this may not at all be for you, then turn back now. This isn’t for you. Another thing to be said is that this is based off of a song by Steampianist and Motrb that is called “Secrets of Wysteria” using the vocaloid, Oliver. A lot of elements from the song were used in this creation, and it might help to understand some of the events if you listen to the song. This isn’t by any means required to read, but it might explain some of my choices of detail. Without further ado, here is Wysteria.

The soft sun shone upon a quaint house at the end of a cul de sac. The one story, white house had a moving van parked in the driveway, with only a box or two left inside. The house looked to be in fair condition. Pristine white sides and grey roof were surrounded by small bushes and flower beds. Out on the front yard stood a big weeping willow tree, while a few lived in the back before it faded to untamed woods. The long leaves dangled down as a small, 7 year old boy ran through the draping screens, summer sunlight shining through the sap green leaves. The greener grass popped up and tickled the boy’s feet as he ran around the willow, living in a different reality. His two parents moved the last boxes in as his sibling did his own thing. The boy started to climb up the willow tree as his parents called out to tell the children that dinner would be in 2 hours.

It was a few minutes till the boy saw a small squad of kids and their parents began approaching the house. The boy wasn’t surprised to see them. During the whole unloading of the trailer, several of their new neighbors had come down to welcome them to the cul de sac. The group of children we’re all boys, each conversing excitedly amongst themselves. The new kid on the block, named Ryan, stood awkwardly by the tree, hands rested against it, as the people approached. Ryan’s brother moved inside to tell his parents of the new set of welcomers. Ryan, however, was drawn to the set of 4 kids. The boy hoped that they might be his first friends; yet, he stood by the tree, just staring at them. 

One of the mothers dipped down and whispered something the group, and they all nodded, turning to the lone child. They approached with confidence and purpose while the parents moved to the house, where the boy’s parents had just emerged. Once they got over to the willow tree, one held out his hand, smiling. “Hi, I’m TJ These are my friends,” he pointed back at the three other kids, moving his finger with each name, “Shane, Sara, and Devon! Welcome to the Neighborhood!” Shane had spoken with a chipper tone, but his voice was more subdued. The one named Sara waved high up, a big grin on her face. “HI!” The boy could already tell that TJ was probably the quieter one of the quad.

“Hey, I’m Ryan.” Ryan stated with a ghost of a smile. He had lifted one of his hands off of the willow’s bark to wave at the group. “Nice to meet you all!”

Shane shifted forward, the tallest of the group by far. “Another shortie. This’ll be fun.” He smirked, body set in a nonchalant, tasteful slouch. 

Ryan couldn’t help but puff out his cheeks in indignation. “You’re just old! What are you, 18?”

The attempt at an insult only seemed endearing to Shane. “If only. I’m 11.” He only grew more smug as he spoke, and those around him seemed to shrug it off as Shane being Shane.

Sara sat down, already tired of standing up. “So what brings you to the neighborhood?,” she asked, leaning back. The rest joined her on the ground, as if waiting for a story.

Ryan sat, and hummed for a bit, trying to remember what his mother had told him on the long car ride over. “Well, it had something to do with my mom’s job.” He looked around at the four kids, smiling a bit. “I don’t really get it, but I have a feeling I’ll have fun here!”

Shane, TJ, Sara, and Devon all smiled too, having a similar feeling as well, as well as Ryan’s smile being contagious. Shane spoke up, saying, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, Devon and TJ both from out of town as well. You guys can bond over that or something.” Devon and TJ nodded, hoping to offer some sort of comfort to the newcomer.

Ryan grinned wider, hugging his knees tight against his chest. The willow created a dappled light over the five boys as they talked about everything and anything, primarily movies. The world seemed to slip away from them as they conversed under the willow tree. Minutes dripped away and the sun’s travels meant nothing to the newly forming group of friends. When Ryan’s mom had called him in for dinner, he inadvertently dragged the other four with him. Alas, days must end, and the setting sun called for night to descend. TJ, Devon, and Sara all left together, living further down the road while Shane only walked nextdoor.

Ryan sat under their willow tree, head resting upon his knees as he stared up at the star studded sky. He smiled softly, looking down over to the weeping willow he sat beneath, dragging his hand smoothly across it’s bark. He knew that this would hold many more memories with his new friends. Those of which he hoped would never end.

Tomorrow couldn’t have come sooner for Ryan as he sprung out of his small sleeping bag. Nothing had been removed from their boxes or assembled, so almost all off the rooms were void of furniture, and instead had columns of boxes, staking up in corners and in the middle of each of the bedrooms. Ryan hopped over his brother who was going to be living in the same room as him till further arrangements were made. The excited child’s feet managed to kick into the side of his brother as he ran across the room and out the door, still adorned in his jammies. The sibling groaned, glaring at the door that Ryan had left open in his joyous rush. 

As Ryan skidded into the kitchen, where his mother had just gotten out the kettle from a box labeled “Kitchen Supplies” in barely legible handwriting, and was heating up water for some tea. She looked up from the stove to he her baby boy bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet, with a big ass grin plastered on his face. She popped an eyebrow and asked, “What’s got you hopping about?” 

Ryan was quick to respond with, “I get to see TJ, Sara, and Devon again today! And Shane will be there too!” He giggled at his own little joke back there. Kids were so easily amused.

His mother simply smiled, turning back to the kettle. “Well, get yourself some breakfast and clothes before you go running of! You aren’t going out and getting your PJs dirty!” Ryan nodded and quickly assembled himself a bowl of cereal that his parents had bought so they had a quick breakfast item for the kids to eat until they unpacked all the kitchen utensils. As Ryan ate, his brother, whom he so rudely woke up, brushed harshly by him for waking him up unintentionally. Ryan paid little mind to him, continuing to eat his cereal, eager to get out and wait for his friends under the willow tree.

Ryan finished the remaining milk in his bowl and hopped out of his seat to find the box that held his clothes. His mother called after him to get him to clean up his mess, but he was already in his bedroom, fiddling with the box towers. He had managed to pull out a grey shirt and brown cargo shorts. He fumbled to pull the clothing over his head and up his legs tripping over his shorts as he prematurely started to run to the door. He struggled with the fabric a bit more, kicking and pulling it up to they were securely on his bum. Ryan hastily stood, and ran out to the front door to grab his shoes, when his mother stopped him, grabbing his shoulder. He looked up at his mother, who did not look pleased with him.

“Clean up your mess,” she demanded of him. Ryan gulped dryly, nodding. The mom let go of her child and he immediately shuffled over to his spot on the table, and picked up his bowl. He tried to go through cleaning the bowl as fast he could, with his brother snickering in the background when he struggled to reach over the counter. 

The loud clunk of the bowl hitting the adjacent counter signified that Ryan was done cleaning, and in a second he was across the room. His mother chuckled warmly at her son’s energy. He pulled his sandals onto his feet, hopping about on one foot as he put on each shoe. 

Shoes securely on his feet, Ryan rushed out to the front yard, making a beeline to the willow tree. Beneath it already was Shane, who was sitting criss cross in his spot from yesterday. Ryan’s smile widened as he tackled the older boy in a fit of giggles. Shane fell over, letting out a soft “oh” before breaking into laughter as the two tussled about.

“Okay, Ryan! Get off, my sides hurt! I may be taller but I’m not stronger, that’s for sure!,” he pleaded through his giggles. Ryan obliged, straightening up in time to see Devon, TJ, and Sara heading down the cul de sac. 

“Devon! Sara! TJ!” Ryan called to the three, waving at them from his spot on the grass. Devon and Sara waved back, starting to run down the asphalt. TJ kept his cadence steady, consigning to the thought that he was going to get there eventually. Soon enough though, they were all poised around in a circle at the base of the tree.

“So,” Sara started their mini meeting off. “I think we should go out instead of sitting here all day!” The others nodded, but Devon interjected.

“Yeah, but first, I have an idea of my own!” The rest turned to Devon, their focus trained in on her. “We should meet here every day of summer! It can be like a secret club meeting every day, and this tree could be our meeting spot!” 

Sara nodded excitedly, obviously enthralled in this prospect. “Ooh, yeah! We can be like the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles! Or the Power Rangers! Or the PowerPuff Girls!”

The group all voiced their approval of the concept. Ryan chirped in eagerly. “ Yeah, but we’d need to name this place, or at least the tree.”

They all looked up into the dangling leaves, a gentle breeze stirring them slightly. Their soft rustling was soothing, and brought a sense of serenity to the air. The kid’s wide eyes were focused on the bending branches, trying to link a name to their soon to be official, secret meeting tree. None of them spoke for a while, and it was debatable if all of them were thinking of names, minds not drifting off.

“I got it!” Sara cut through the silence in the air with her bright, bubbly voice. The others snapped to attention, blinking away whatever world they had transported themselves to. The others chattered in excitement, waiting eagerly for Sara’s idea. “Wysteria!” Her smile was bright, obviously happy about her name idea.

The others looked up into the branches, each mulling the name over in their heads. Shane was the first to look back to Sara. “That sounds like a grandma’s name,” He said bluntly.

Ryan was quick to interject. “Well, I mean the tree’s pretty old from what my mom told me. And it sounds nice when you say it together. Wysteria the Willow.” Ryan grinned at Sara, which was enough to negate the ignorant words from Shane.

TJ and Devon nodded along. “I think it fits. It’s mysterious,” TJ commented. Sara smiled wide, happy that her friends liked the idea. “Then it’s official. This is our meeting spot, Wysteria!” The children cheered, throwing their hands up in the air, pulling grass up with them as mock confetti. 

Sara piped up again as the cheers died down. “So, about what I said earlier! I think, for a mission, we should go into the forest behind Ryan’s house!” The mention off the decently sized forest that was surrounding the cul de sac caught everyone’s attention. Especially Ryan’s.

“I dunno.. Lemme ask my mom.” Ryan looked over his shoulder, yelling back at the house. “HEY MOM! MOOOM!!” TJ covered his ears while the others winced at the volume of Ryan’s voice. 

Ryan’s mom opened up a window and leaned out, shouting back. “WHAT?”

“ME AND MY FRIENDS ARE GONNA PLAY IN THE WOODS!”

“ALRIGHT! BE BACK BY NOON!”

“KAY!”

Ryan turned back to his friends, smiling while they all stared at the now apparent loud child. “Well geez, Ryan. You’re louder than me and Sara!,” Devon commented. Sara nodded beside her silently.

“And that’s saying something,” TJ muttered. Shane patted TJ on the back, nodding slowly.

Ryan chuckled, standing up. He rested his hands on the sides of his stomach, grinning. “So, ghouligans! We going into the woods?,” he asked the other four.

They all stood, a chorus of yeses ringing out. Ryan was quick to turn around, running to the back and into the thick of oak and pines. The others followed, their steps kicking up dead leaves that were still coated on the forest floor. They all started to diverge, all saying that Sara had to catch them. The smallest kid turned off to catch Shane, while Ryan ran at top speed, weaving around trees and jumping over bushes and fallen trunks. His breathing started to pick up, losing track of where he had came from.

As he ran, Ryan didn't notice the trees beginning to thin, more grass peeking through the ground. Soon, the tree line cut into a clearing, grass now thickly coating the earth’s floor. It wasn’t long though. It was freshly cut. It had to be, it was an unmistakable smell. Further out into the clearing, Ryan could see the backside of a small house, similar to Ryan’s new one. One story, not particularly long, and surrounded by flower beds. Except, the walls were a pale yellow, and the roof shingles seemed older and more faded than Ryan’s. He stared at it, curious to know if it was abandoned or not. Though, if he was honest with himself, he was too afraid to go in alone. 

Ryan turned, yelling out to his friends, “HEY GUYS! GUUUYS! I FOUND SOMETHING!” He didn’t worry about them hearing him. Ryan was fairly confident in his voice. He could even hear a faint echo of his words. He shifted his gaze back to the house, but never walking out past the tree line, a hand rested upon a pine tree for some comfort. There was something ominous about the stray house that made Ryan’s insides clench. A waft of an unfamiliar smell invaded Ryan’s senses, that only added to his queasiness. The faint sounds of feet against old leaves made Ryan look behind him, spotting Shane, Devon, TJ, and Sara coming in through the foliage. They looked out of breath, especially TJ, as they slowed into a stop before Ryan. Ryan cleared his throat, and jabbed his thumb back, pointing at the house. “You guys know what this house is?”

Shane was the first to pipe up. He puffed his chest out, and walked up to Ryan, staring him in the eyes. With his eyebrows furrowed, and stare intense, he spoke in a low, and serious voice. “Ryan, we have to be honest with you.” He let a draw of silence create an air of dread, and further unsettlement fall upon Ryan. Ryan gulped heavily, concern and fear quickly escalating. A few more moments, and Shane’s gaze lifted up to look at the house. Then he relaxed, looking dumbfounded. “I have never seen that house before in my life.”

Ryan whined, partially in anger, but also in distress. “SHANE!! Don’t go scaring me like that! It’s not niiiiiiice!!” Tears pricked at the edges of his eyes as he pushed Shane away and crossed his arms, trying to seem angry with him. Ryan instead looked more like a sad puppy. 

Shane laughed in his weird way, sounding like a high pitched evil laugh. “Aw, come on Ry! I was just kidding!” He lightly punched Ryan’s shoulder, making the boy stumble forward a bit. 

Ryan sniffed, glaring up at the brunet boy as he rubbed his shoulder. “Well it wasn’t funny!,” he cried, rubbing at his eyes. “You’re mean,” he concluded, glaring at the ground.

Shane didn’t take this comment too seriously as he brought himself back to the matter at hand. “Still. I didn’t know this existed.”  
Ryan hummed uncomfortably, hugging himself. “It’s creepy. And it kinda smells.”

Shane grinned tauntingly, running out into the clearing. “I want to go inside!,” he giggled as he ran through the stange lawn.

Ryan squeaked, stepping forward and reaching his hand out, as if to stop Shane from doing something he might regret. TJ didn’t look too concerned while the girls just chuckled at Shane’s recklessness. “Shane!! Y-you can’t just go in! What if someone lives here!? Didn’t your parents ever tell you about stranger danger!?” Despite wanting to go out and retrieve the older boy, Ryan didn’t move out past the tree line, afraid that if he crossed that line, he could never return.

Shane didn’t pay Ryan any heed, turning around and crossing his arms defiantly. “Well you’re not my parents! I can do what I want!!” He stuck his tongue out at Ryan. Like a child. What do you expect? They’re children.

TJ rubbed his chin as he thought. “I don’t see what’s wrong in having a look…” he said partially to himself. Ryan scoffed as TJ followed Shane into the clearing.

“Don’t be a chicken, Ryan!,” Devon teased, tucking her fists into her armpits as she made clucking noises. She walked backwards into the clearing as she mercilessly taunted Ryan, never breaking eye contact. Sara giggled, following the others, and before Ryan knew it, he was the only one left in the trees. He groaned slightly as he tried to shake the cold shivers that tickled his back as he sprinted out.

“Just one look, alright!?,” he demanded of the group. Everyone affirmed as the made their way towards the seemingly abandoned house. They all walked to the back of the house, peering into the windows, trying to see inside while Shane broke off.

Shane turned to the front of the house, seeing no driveway or car anywhere. He pressed his lips together, eyebrows furrowing slightly. His paces grew slower as he neared the front steps. The elaborate iron railings looked old and rusted, it’s black paint peeling from age. The steps had moss encroaching on them, and cracks had started to form. Shane wrapped around so he was standing in front of the weather weared steps, standing upon old cobblestone that had been worn and hidden by grass. The boy looked up at the door. It was the cleanest of everything Shane could see. It almost looked like it had just gotten a fresh coat of red. “That’s a strange colour for a door…,” he commented aloud, not expecting anyone to hear.

With that off-hand comment, the lock to the door clicked loudly, ringing in Shane’s ears. He stiffened as his legs froze in place, but did his best to keep his composure. The door handle turned and opened swiftly, unveiling a tall man in a pristine white dress shirt and grey pants. He had old suspenders that were a light pink, but judging by how worn they looked, Shane could only guess that they weren’t always pink. The man also wore an untied tie, and had a shadow of a beard that stretched from his raven black hair. The man looked down at Shane, almost just as surprised as the boy was. It didn’t take long for the adult to smile slyly and straighten up. “Well, hello there, little boy!,” he exclaimed in a smooth, honey like tone. He maintained a similar, cool composure as Shane did. “What brings you to my humble abode?”

Shane shrugged nonchalantly, not letting any unease show on his face. “Stupidity, mostly.” The joke landed nicely, eliciting a low chuckle from the adult.

The man leaned on his doorframe. “I like you, old sport! Oh, and sorry for not introducing myself. My name is Ricky Goldsworth. And what, pray tell, is yours?” He kept the high ground, looking down on Shane. 

Shane had a respect for Ricky, trying to match his mellow aura. The boy took a step forward, smiling as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m Shane. My friends and I saw this house and thought it was abandoned so we wanted to check it out.” Just as he said that, Devon, Ryan, Sara, and TJ rounded the corner, and saw Shane looking up at the well dressed man. Ryan cried out, while the others were slightly scared, but curious.

Goldsworth looked over at the group, smoothing out the front of his shirt, still smiling. “Well, welcome to the party, boys!”

Shane also looked over to his friends, grinning with an innocent confidence. “Hey guys! This is Mr. Goldsworth. He owns this place.” He backed up slightly as he processed his friends’ disapproving glares.

“Call me, Ricky.” He stepped further out of his house, standing high above the other four kids. He didn’t cease his subtle grinning as he looked down at them. “You all must’ve come a long way to get to my house. Hows about you all come in for a little… Refreshment?,” he asked flashing a toothy grin.

Shane looked fairly intrigued, fear refusing to surface and scream about how dangerous this could turn out to be. The others, especially Ryan, were a bit weary. “Stranger Danger” resounded heavily in their ears, but they weren’t about to leave Shane alone on this. They’d rather have everyone together incase it was bad news rather than abandoning their friend to possibly die. After some hesitance, the four all nodded.

“Swell.” Ricky gestured for them to follow him inside as he moved in, disappearing behind the door again. Shane was quick to follow, obviously intrigued by the stranger, while the others were still weary. Ryan was probably the most displeased about this turn of events, crossing his arms as he followed his friends into the man’s house.

The inside was starkly different from the outside. Everything looked brand new, or at least thoroughly cleaned. Even the base boards didn’t have a speck of dirt on them. The door lead into an open area with hardwood flooring. Off to the left was a family room with an old ornate chair stationed there with a stand next to it. The room didn't have anything else in it. To the right was a kitchen. It was well organized with a bookshelf next to the refrigerator full with hand bound books, none of which had titles. On the stove, there was a pot with it’s lid on, and a bright blue fire ignited beneath. Ricky walked to the pot and barely lifted the lid to sniff at the contents. He looked very pleased, ad grabbed one of the open, unlabeled books on the adjacent counter and began mumbling as he read what was written on it. Towards the middle of the kitchen, there was a table with 6 chairs, one on each end and two on each of the sides, but there was only one seat set up for dinner. The table had a little metal loop hole at each of the four corners. There was a freshly beaten welcome mat on the other side of the door, and beside it a tray for shoes. Ricky’s were there from when he came in, and there was a separate set of light up skechers that didn’t look like they’d quite fit Ricky. TJ took a step off the mat when he was stopped by Ricky when he rushed up to them. “Ah, please do take your shoes off! I just refinished the floors!” TJ stepped silently back, slid his shoes off, and placed them in the tray. The rest did the same, walking out onto the smooth floorboards with either bare feet or socks. Ricky nodded, muttering a quick “Thank you,” before another click sounded.

The group fanned out a bit, observing little odds and ends about the house. There were a few framed pictures of what appeared to be Ricky, fully dressed in a suit, and a man in a long, beige trench coat and a fedora. Sometimes,they’d be standing together in the same photo. Devon walked up to the bookshelf, and reached up to the handle to open it, but it had a lock on it. Devon huffed in frustration, running back over to TJ. Ryan veered off to approach the stranger, his eyes narrow with suspicion. “You live alone?,” he asked with a venomous tone.

Ricky looked down at Ryan, still smiling. “Oh well I used to live with my… friend. But he has been gone for a long time. Now, it's just me.” He turned back to the book he was reading.

“What's in the book?,” Ryan inquired again.

“My personal recipes. I’m one killer chef!”

“Why are there six chairs at the table?”

“It was a set, and cheaper! I got it from a thrift store!”

“Whe-”

“Ryan, you’re being kinda nosey,” TJ stated, resting a hand of his friend’s shoulder. Ryan huffed, glaring at the ground like it had just insulted him.

Ricky only chuckled warmly. “It’s okay. Why don’t you little rascals explore while I finish this up?”

Sara shot off immediately, closely followed by Shane. TJ lead Devon into another section of the house while Ryan trailed behind them all, steps slow with a dreadful apprehension. Ricky opened the pot again, using a ladle to stir it about. While doing so, he hummed in disappointment. “Oh, damn. I’m short on an ingredient.” Ricky looked over at the straggling kid, and grabbed his shoulder. “Excuse me, old sport. Would you mind lending me a hand?”

Ryan looked up, the others already long gone, disappearing into the various rooms in the house. Fear seized his heart, and all he could manage was a nod. He felt as though any other answer might lead to something worse. “Sure…” It came out as a whisper, eyes trying to hide behind his black bangs that fell on his forehead.

Ricky seemed to be greatly pleased about this. “Good. So, for now, I just need you to sit at the opposite end of the table.” Ryan was confused, but complied, pulling out the chair and climbing into it. His legs dangled in the air from the height, kicking them about as he hummed an improvised song to distract himself. He rested his hands on the table as he looked around at the pristine kitchen. 

“What did you need help with, anyway?,” Ryan asked, staring at the assortment of pots hanging above the table. 

Ricky tied a heavy apron around his waist, and rolled his sleeves up. “Just a matter of flavor, old sport, so just sit still.” Ryan stopped kicking his legs, twisting his head around to look at the bookshelf. Ricky pulled out a cleaver from his knife block, checking it’s sharpness. “Mmm yes, very good!,” he mumbled to himself, looking back to Ryan. Ryan was still looking at the books, head twisting slightly in confusion. Ricky approached the boy, smiling sweetly. “Now, remember, hold still!,” he said, jovially, his free hand holding down one of Ryan’s wrists. 

Ryan’s head instantaneously whipped back to see Ricky raising the clever high above his head, a perfectly calm demeanor still set in him. Ryan’s eyes widened with fear and panic as he tried to pull his hand away, screaming. Ricky snapped at Ryan, saying, “I said, no squirming!” His muscles tensed, applying more pressure Ryan’s wrist. Ryan’s tugs were futile, Ricky having clearly done this before due to his beefy forearms. Ricky sent the cleaver down onto Ryan’s fingers, cutting them cleanly off in one swing. Ryan shrieked, crying as a searing pain shot up from his nubs. He stared in horror at his fingers, lying on the now bloody table. Ricky seemed pleased, putting down the cleaver to pick up a finger. He licked the severed end, tasting the blood like it was a fine wine. He smiled widely. “Oh, Ryan. You are a treat. I should make a roast of you,” he cheered to himself, only making Ryan cry out more.

“G-get away from me! You sicko! Let go of me!!,” he begged and insulted at the same time, tears rushing down his cheeks as he violently tried to free his hand. Ricky waved Ryan’s finger around. “Nu-uh-uh! You said you’d lend a hand, and if I’m not mistaken, you still have a thumb left!” Ryan screeched in protest when Ricky picked up the bloody cleaver, lining up his shot at Ryan’s thumb. With another swift swing, the thumb was off in a second. Ryan’s breathing was ragged as he sobbed, the pain almost unbearable. His other hand reached over to try and and stop the bleeding from his stubs. Ricky didn’t let go of Ryan’s wrist, looking up as he heard thumping footsteps approach.

It was Shane at the head, skidding to a stop the moment he saw the bloody apron Ricky was wearing, and the cleaver in his hands. Ryan stared at Shane with the face of utter terror as he cried. The others soon came rushing in, covering their mouths in disgust and shock at the scene before them. Ricky straightened, yanking Ryan out his chair. The boy kicked his feet, trying to get out of his steel grasp. Shane stepped forward, challenging Ricky. “What did you do!?”

Ricky was still smiling. “Dear old Ryan here wanted to help with my soup, so I took his fingers as a final touch.” He pulled up Ryan so that they were seeing eye to eye. Ryan was petrified, his shaking breaths all too audible. “Though, I do wish that weren’t the case! He’s a sweet one. I could make a nice sauce with the blood, and maybe candy the fingers! It would complement his flesh well!” His toothy grin grew wider as Ryan’s heart sunk lower. 

Ryan took a breath, and cried out as he sent his foot right into Ricky’s balls, causing the man to drop him. Ryan hit the ground with a dull thud, wasting no time to scramble to his feet again. His bloodied hand slipped and smeared on the floors. The others rushed up to him, clamoring around him, though they kept a certain distance from his hand. TJ spoke above the chatter, nudging everyone towards their shoes. “Everyone, quick!!,” he urged. “Let’s get out of here!” Not a single person dared to argue as they all leaped to grab their shoes. Ryan was still holding hand, blood slowly coating it. It dripped onto the floor, ruining the new finish Ricky had put on it. Sara walked up to Ryan, tugging at his shirt. “Come on!!,” she whined. Ryan sniffed and nodded, bending down over his shoes to pick them up. Shane, Devon, and TJ were ramming themselves into the door, trying to bust it open.

“Just open the door!,” Ryan shrieked. 

Devon looked back at him, just as scared as her friend was. “We tried! He locked it with a key!,” she frantically explained before going back to ramming.

“Leaving so soon, boys?” 

A hauntingly familiar voice resounded behind them, making them turn to face their attacker. Ricky’s smile held no sweetness in it anymore. It was crooked, and unsettling. The group all took a pace backwards before darting off to try hide somewhere in the house until they could safely get back to the front door and get out. Once again, they split, taking different doors. Ricky’s heavy steps were obnoxiously loud as he looked around. “Now… Who should I find first?” He gripped the cleaver in his hand tightly, Ryan’s blood trickling off the blade.

Ryan had turned a corner which had only a door at the end. Deciding it was his best choice, he fumbled with the knob. His hand kept slipping off, the blood making it hard to grip the knob. He finally got the door to swing open, revealing a staircase down into the basement. Ryan quietly whined. “It’s always the basement.” He pushed that thought aside, having no choice in this matter. Ryan closed the door behind him and creeped down the carpeted steps. There were no lights, or even small windows that peeked just above the ground. He stumbled in the dark before finding a blanket on the floor, pulling it over his head and cowering in the corner. Ryan cradled his bloody hand, the blood sickenly warm on his skin. Ryan wanted to throw up his breakfast. He wanted to cry for his mom and go home. But he kept quiet under the blanket, feeling is clothes absorb the crimson liquid. The silence was deafening and the apprehension climbed to new heights as he sat there like a injured animal with no fight left in him. His tears streaked steadily down his cheeks as he tried to subdue his sobs. Ryan had no doubt that he probably was going to die. He actually counted on it. He knew that he had set up a trail for Ricky to follow. All Ryan was doing was buying time. 

Buying time for one last prayer. 

Buying time to remember his short life. 

Buying time to foolishly hope that someone else will come.

“I found you, Ryan.” The voice was low, and menacing.

And just like that, time abandoned him.

Ricky threw the blanket off of Ryan’s head, smirking down on Ryan like a mad man. “The plans I have for you…” Ricky let the sentence die in his throat. He twirled the cleaver in his hands, bending over to scoop up the young boy, slinging him over his shoulder. “Now, your flavors can’t be left unknown! I’m sure your friends would greatly appreciate a little taste,” Ricky said with unparalleled glee as he walked back up to the kitchen. “Boys, girls! Come out! Ryan wants to see you!,” he called, grabbing some rope from the cupboard underneath the sink. Ryan kicked and squirmed in Ricky’s grasp, but he was locked down, and his small legs couldn’t do much to phase the man. Ricky, instead, hummed a painfully cheerful diddy, dropping Ryan harshly onto the dinner table. He held his hand firmly on Ryan’s chest, pressing down on the ribs. The building pressure made Ryan scream, trying to push the psychopath away, but his bloody hands only slipped along his skin, painting Ricky’s arm red.

Off in the house owner’s office room, Devon could hear everything all too clearly. She held herself back, trying not to rush out there head first and possibly get captured too. She did, however, cautiously step out of the office area and creeped back to the kitchen doorway. Her head peeked around the corner, eyes shooting open when she saw Ryan, sprawled out onto the table. Ricky’s elbow held Ryan’s chest down as he fought with Ryan’s right hand in order to tie him down to the little rings drilled into the sides of the table. Devon sucked in air, pushing down a wave of nausea that crashed over her. Ryan was screeching and pounding his bloody fist against Ricky in attempt to get the man to stop. Ricky never paid any mind to Ryan’s struggles. When it came to tie down the other hand, it went a lot smoother with the already limited movement. 

Devon silently stared, wrapped in paralyzing fear. She didn’t hear the soft shuffle from behind her as Shane and Sara emerged from their separate hiding places. Shane caught one glance at Ricky binding his new friend down like an animal, and rage instead welled up in him. Devon looked up, and recognized the look on Shane’s face. With upturned eyebrows, Devon shook her head disapprovingly, mouthing, “Don’t go,” to Shane as if it would change his mind. Shane looked back and bit his lip, before turning back to run out into the kitchen.

 

Ricky turned to look at Ryan’s friend, the smallish boy trying to take on a threatening stature, but Ricky was not phased. “Ah, our first seat has been filled! Please, sit down. This will only take a short while.”

Shane gritted his teeth, hands balled up in angry fists. “I’m not sitting anywhere! Let Ryan go, now!!,” he screeched, tears pricking the edges of his eyes. Ryan squirmed a bit in his bonds and cried out for Shane. Shane shifted over, now taking his eyes off of Ricky and settled them on Ryan. His brain was frantically scrambling for a plan, miles behind the decisions already made.

Ricky's chuckle was endearing, like Shane was just mad that he couldn't have a lollipop. “Aw. Well, now you see.” He stooped down low to grin right in the child’s face. “Letting him go would be a waste of food! Now, let’s be a good little monster, and sit down.” His smile pulling into an almost impossibly large, crooked grin, and his eyes stared directly into Shane’s. The boy took this as a cue to get the hell out, but large, muscular hands grappled his waist, and hoisted the panicking boy up in the air.

“Let me go! LET US GO!!” Shane’s cries lost their demanding edge, coming out more pitiful, and fruitless. His kicks and screams meant nothing, and his fiery glares were of no concern to Ricky.

Tisking, Ricky placed the thin boy on one of the chairs; the one closest Ryan’s fingerless hand. The man pulled out a two pronged barbeque fork from one of his drawers, and swiveled his head over to catch Shane in the act of trying to undo the rope bindings that held Ryan’s hand against the table. He laughed, but it was void of any sort of joy. “Now, what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was stone cold, and his unsettling grin, sharp, and twisted. The barbeque fork was flipped so the prongs would need to be swung down to hit anything without twisting the wrist around. Ricky gripped the potential weapon tightly, and Shane abandoned the rope tied to the table. If Ryan shouted something to him, he didn’t hear it. The only thing that the boy could think of was that he needed to run. His legs frantically kicked the lanky boy off the chair, and onto the floor. The landing was ungraceful, and the impact with the tile sent a dull pain up his spine. A gap in movement was all Ricky needed, allowing him to take hold of Shane’s hand and hoist the child up again. This time, he wasn’t given the luxury of a chair. That time had passed. If the boy wouldn’t stay still upon command, he would be forced to. Ricky pressed Shane’s hand into the table, palm up and Ricky brought up the fork, plunging it in between the hand bones. A screech tore out of the child’s lungs, his wide dark brown eyes trained on the metal that continued to sink into his own flesh. The pain was excruciating, and the sight far beyond jarring. His face scrunched up to keep his tears at bay, feeling a need to stay strong in any way possible. Bile sloshed in his stomach, creeping up his chest. It was his blood that now stained the polish and pristine surface. Everytime Shane tried to move, not only did the muscle and nerves scrape coarsely across the smooth surface of the fork, but his wrist protested profusely, the uncomfortable and unnatural bending of his hand and wrists alike filing it’s pain to Shane quickly every time he tried to pull or push away the barbecue fork. The metal had broken all the way through the hand, now being pressed through the wood without much care on Ricky’s side. All he needed was to keep the boys there, and wait for the others to join the party. The dark brown haired boy screwed his eyes shut, and his legs buckled beneath him. His hand pulled against the fork, which elicited another low wail, but Shane couldn’t find the strength to stand again. 

Audible gasps called for the attention of Ricky, who’s head snapped to the doorway out of the kitchen where the noise originated from. He wasted no time in striding over to peer around the corner, his smile ever present and growing. Sara and Devon scuttled back, wide doe eyes staring up at the looming horror. They trembled like leaves, the smallest one covering her mouth with her hand to try to stifle her sobs, not worrying about the river of tears that poured from her eyes. Devon subconsciously gripped Sara’s shoulders, pulling the small girl closer to her chest. Tears glazed her eyes, but had yet to fall while she slowly backed away from the animalistic man. Every part of Devon begged for her to run. To push Sara into Ricky’s needy clutches and set off sprinting again, but her feet were lead, and dragged across the floor. 

“More guests hide behind my walls. Now, why would they do that?” A large hand lowered and took hold of Sara’s small, twiggy arm. The girl tugged to free herself, but Ricky spoke over her, and his words made Sara freeze. “Maybe you will be more willing than your friends back there?” Fear hid behind the smallest’s eyes at the thought of being impaled, or losing her fingers. Not to mention, it brought her friends back to mind. They still needed to be saved. If she left, Shane and Ryan might be dead before they could get help. 

Devon interceded, trying to pry Ricky’s hand off of Sara’s rigid arm. Neither budged, even when Devon started to scream furiously to let them go. The brown eyed girl shifted to look up at her friend. “D-Devon… They… We can’t just leave…” The child stared at her smallerer friend, gritting her teeth. Devon knew they couldn’t just abandon Shane, Ryan, and TJ. But did that really mean sitting willfully at a cannibal’s table?

Ricky had the answer to Devon’s silent question. “Well, you little monsters!” His voice was back to smooth and collected, contrasting the wild, mad look that glinted in his impossibly wide eyes. “You must not be hungry right now. How bout you wait somewhere else for now? I’ll give you some food soon enough though, now don’t you worry! It’ll just take a bit of preparation. Only a few more ties just to make sure dinner doesn’t run away!” He laughed heartily, but he was serious. The insuations were spine tingling as they were ushered off. Devon tried to catch one last look at Shane and Ryan, mouth some last words of wisdom. Maybe try to spit out a joke. Alas, the walls obstructed her view, with only their faint sobs and whimpers left to tell her that they were still alive. Sara, however, put up more of a fight, scrambling to push past large forearms and back to Shane and Ryan. Ricky didn’t let her slip out of his hold, and pushed the two to the floor in front of a door, with a bloody knob. They hit the floorboards harshly, Devon slamming her head against them. “You missed your chance, little girl! You’ll have to wait till your friend has had his fill. Now go into the basement like good little monsters!” The girls were still dazed when Ricky grappled their shirts and lifted them effortlessly, going through old, familiar motions. Devon was disoriented, small hands pawing feebly at Ricky’s, juxtaposing the frantic slap of Sara’s tiny palms against their captor. She whined and wailed to be let go, face read from the crying. The young bodies jolted with each descending step till they all were at the bottom. Ricky dropped them like meat, and started to climb back up the stairwell. Devon held her head gingerly and Sara bolted to follow Ricky back up, but the door was swiftly closed in her face. 

The small child sniffed, deep brown eyes dark as she stared wide eyed in abject horror as the entire situation weighed on her shoulders. She roughly sniffed, trying to suck the snot that had began to drip out back up her nose. Her eyebrows were upturned and her bottom lip quivered as a brand new onslaught of despair crashed over Sara. A broken, distressed cry tore out of her lungs, tired from screaming and blubbering. Tiny fists bashed at the door like they could possibly cause a splinter. Sara screamed in rage and desperation, “GET BACK HERE YOU… YOU… B-BIG… TERRIBLE PERSON! DON’T KILL THEM! PLEASE!” Her rappings were persistent, injuring the girl’s hands more than it hurt the door. “WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS!? PEOPLE DON’T EAT PEOPLE!! JUST LET US GO!! I-” The thumping quieted. “I… I just w-want t-to go ho-o-ome…” Sobs broke her words apart the more she spoke, shoulders jerking up with each one. 

At the bottom, Devon watched Sara light up in a fit of passion, only to burn out in seconds. The racket made the back of the taller’s head throb more. Slowly, she stood, calling back up to Sara. “Sara… come down.” She didn’t move. A hefty huff, and Devon was climbing up to comfort her friend. She lowered himself onto one of the steps below the one Sara was on, and pulled the small body down to be cradled by her own. The smaller child sniffed and babbled halfway to incoherently, and Devon just held her tight, squeezing her eyes shut to try to expunge her own tears. Her face was scrunched up to try to hide any tell tale sign of what had, was, and will happen but it all rolled out anyway, heavy with sorrow. Inhaling sharply, Devon shakily cooed, “I-it’s okay… we’ll b-be ok-kay… We c-can ge-et out-t.” It was so hard to breathe, let alone lie. Devon knew that Sara knew that best case scenario right now was they, Shane, and TJ all got out alive. Both of their hopes for Ryan’s survival were thoroughly snuffed out by every sickly sweet word that slipped out of the insane man’s mouth.

Upstairs, in the kitchen, Ricky happily leafed through one of his recipe books to find the perfect one for Ryan’s “taste.” Shane was still slumped, and his hand still pinned. His muscles ached from the awkward positioning. He was still keeping his sorrow down, but his screams of anguish had hushed. That didn’t mean the pain had died down with it. His hand still throbbed dully, sending wave after wave of pain into his rapidly numbing nerves. Heavily breathing, Shane glared at the white shirt that had started to get muddy red blood stains on the sleeves. Ryan was sobbing softly, from what Shane could hear, but he couldn’t quite see over the table ledge from where he was kneeling on the floor. What he could see was the ropes that held Ryan’s arms and legs in place, and the occasional drip of blood that fell over the edge directly in front of Shane. It stirred anger with grief within Shane, adding more fuel to the burning glare that the tall boy shot at their captor. Ricky looked behind him to catch Shane in the act of trying to kill him via death glares. “Do you want a chair?” No response. “I’ll take that as a yes!” The man turned and strided back over, lifting Shane up easily by the back of his shirt. The boy hissed in pain, the pressure behind his eyes growing, and threatening to overflow as Ricky kicked a chair underneath Shane and set him down again. “There! I’ll get you some soup to have while I prepare the main course!” Heavy pats thumped against the child’s head, and he felt a deep queezieness deep within his stomach. Fear took center stage for the first time, and Shane thought about all the things that could happen if he didn’t eat the soup. As much as it hurt to think, but the other fingers probably came from a kid who has been dead for a while, and he still wanted to live long enough to get them all out of here. The sound of sloshing soup being ladled into a bowl was more unsettling than it ever has been. It almost felt like there were torrents crashing around his skull. The bowl clunked in front of Shane, fingers clawing at the surface of the milky white liquid.

Shane took the short period he had with Ryan before he was about to eat his fingers to lean forward and try to comfort him. Ryan stared at his newly sprouted friend, his bright brown eyes dull and glazed, and his face reddened from crying. Every part of him screamed “hold me.” Right down to his slightly furrowed eyes and his shallow and uneven breathing. Desperately, Shane reached over with his free hand to rest it somewhere on Ryan’s abdomen to try to calm him. The moment Shane’s small hand rested on top of Ryan’s grey t’shirt, the boy broke down again. It confused Shane. Did he do something wrong in trying to comfort an injured friend? The short boy whispered, just so Ricky couldn’t overhear, “I-I… I-I’m s-s-sorry-y… I’m so-o so-orry-y.” He looked like a caged and abused animal.

Shane hushed lightly. “No, shh… we’ll get out as soon as I get you out, and we gather the rest. Okay?”

Ryan shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “N-no… No I’m sor-ry… I-I… You… I sh-shoul-lda… c-coul-lda.. Wouldah… d-didn’t.”

“Ryan just shush, we need to think of a way out!”

More vigorous head shaking. “I’m s-sorr-rry… I d-didn’t...”

“Save the sentiments for when we get out, now which rope is the loosest?”

His head still shook. 

“Ryan!” Shane’s whispering got louder, getting more desperate by the second. “Come on, Ryan!” He pressed his hand harder into his friend’s side but Ryan still refused to respond.

The harsh sound of a book slamming shut got Shane’s head to snap over to Ricky. After a second, he turned, his crooked smile still as dead as ever. The man needn’t say a thing, because Shane could read his eyes. Time was up.

“Well, if you are done with that, I believe I should get started.” Ryan pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, found a small brass one, and pushed it into the keyhole that kept his library of home made cook books locked away from prying eyes. “I think I’ll start with his intestines, they’d make a good dumpling filling, I feel.” Rage twisted Shane’s face. Ricky pulled out a thick book, and pushed in the one he had been looking at previously. “I’ll be preserving his arms and legs for some stakes later, and make a wellington out of his butt.” This would’ve made Shane laugh mere minutes ago. “And- Ah, well, I’m probably boring you! Plus, it’ll be a nice surprise, won’t it?”

Shane just sneered. “How long do you plan to keep us here?! Why do you do this anyway!?”

The adult just shrugged. “Until there is nothing left of Ryan here.” The aforementioned child whined. “And I do this because I am a man with delicate taste buds. I will only eat the finest meats, and no meat is finer than human flesh.” He placed the large book on a barren part of the milky white granite countertops. He flipped it open, stopping on a page as he found what he was looking for. With a delighted whistle, Ricky grabbed the bloodied cleaver from a chopping board, presumably left after he brought back Ryan. “But, for now, we have dumplings to make. So eat up your soup!”

Red stained silver hung high above Ryan’s stomach. Ricky’s free hand pushes they boy’s grey shirt up, exposing his pale skin. His entire body trembled, and his breathing was erratic. Twisting and pulling, Ryan fought pointlessly against his restraints, eyes blown wide open, and his pupils pinpricks. Drivel spilled out of his mouth, his words a weak mess of pleas and begging that only made Shane’s heart clench painfully. Ricky pressed his hand firmly down on Ryan’s chest, minimizing his movement even more; although his hips still fought relentlessly, but it was only going to hurt Ryan in the long run. The cleaver lowered down slowly, tracing the delicate skin with seasoned precision. There was a bit of a struggle when trying to decide where to cut due to the constant squirming, that Ricky just sighed. Without a word, or signal, the sharpened blade pressed into Ryan’s stomach effortlessly. Blood quickly bubbled up, along with a blood curdling scream that sounded like it tore out of Ryan’s lungs. There was not a flinch from Ricky as he pressed deeper. The young boy’s cries as wails couldn’t be deciphered, some notably Spanish words spilling out on accident. Shane’s own stomach churned, and the unmistakable taste of bile started to bite at the back of his throat. His hand flew to his face in a panic as a futile attempt to shield himself from the sight of his new friend being sliced mercilessly into by some psychopath in the woods; however, he could not block his ears, and was open to hearing Ryan blubber, and sob, his voice quickly growing horse. Shane could also hear the squelch of the blood filled flesh against the blade. Images spurred and ran around his head, seeming to be more haunting than reality, but he still could not bring himself to open his eyes. The noises were like a rollercoaster. One minute, Ryan was muttering apologies and prayers, the next he was straight back up to yelling, indicating when some fresh new horror had entered the scene. The sickening sounds of damp flesh and thick blood was unfortunately constant, worming their way into his ears and bringing up nausea. Tears started to slip from behind his eyelids for the first time long after Ryan had started bawling his eyes out. 

Time seemed to crawl, every moment dragging on as long as it possibly could, until Shane didn’t hear anything. The stomach churning noises moved away, and Ryan’s cries had hushed into eerie silence. In a split second, the silence became Shane’s worst enemy. It sent chills down his spine, and shot apprehension through his veins. He began to quake, mind trying to explain away why he couldn’t hear Ryan anymore. He was gagged, or he was hushing himself. Tough… he should hear whispers. Morbid curiosity burned at the back of his head, nipping at his resolve till Shane resigned and gingerly removed his hand from over his eyes.

In one fail swoop, Shane’s stomach and chest heaved. His body rejected whatever was in his stomach, which was mostly stomach acids at that point. The bile seared his throat as he vomited it out onto the floor. His chest heaved again, this time in a sob as he hunched over and coughed, trying to get rid of the painfully fowl taste in his mouth, and take the image now stuck in his head, out alongside with it. Ryan was strewn out on the table, dull, muddy brown eyes fixated on the ceiling, but they didn’t see anything anymore. His mouth was parted slightly, prepared to say something that caught in his throat and came out as scarlet red blood. The thick liquid was splattered over the finished wood,still bubbling out of the now sizable square hole in the middle of Ryan’s lower torso. It was a cavern of flesh, barren and empty, missing his intestines. His fatty yellow pancreas, and glossy, bubblegum pink stomach could be seen just beyond the square insertion. Every detail of it was superimposed into Shane’s mind, ingrained in with perfect accuracy. Shane’s chest burned as another wave of bile rose up. He could feel the uncomfortable warmth crawl up and shove it’s way out, making Shane cough every slimy bit out. His throat was already raw from the bile, one word now requiring a lot of caution, and focus behind it. In an attempt to quell the nausea, Shane took deep breaths, although shakey, to keep the acids where they were meant to be. The soup before him was the very last thing he wanted to see, let alone eat. 

“Eat up. These dumplings are going to take a while,” Ricky ordered from a counter in the kitchen. Shane shook his head, body trembling terribly. The captor spoke again, but his tone was lower, and chilling. “It would be best for your own health if you ate.” The implications were enough to get Shane to take up the spoon and sip the creamy liquid silently. He couldn’t deny that it was well seasoned, but there was a sickly taste in the back of his throat. The boy did his best to avoid the fingers, it became harder as he ate more of the soup. Soon, there were only the fingers left. Some of them had lighter skin, which was presumably the ones from Ricky’s last victim. The rest were the darker, tan fingers that were undoubtedly Ryan’s. The brown haired boy was prepared to leave it at that, but he had the suspicion that if he left the fingers uneaten, he would face a worse fate than whatever those fingers could do to him, and Ryan’s sacrifice would mean nothing anything anymore. With a sharp inhale, Shane picked a pale finger with his own fingers. It was soft, and the meat seemed like it would fall right off the bone. It squished and shifted uncomfortably, the nail removed. Shane’s mouth pulled open, and he popped the flesh into his mouth. His tongue fought to have as little contact with the skin as possible. His teeth came down and pulled the cooked meat off the bone, and he chewed it, his face scrunched up in immense displeasure, and the soup in his stomach threatened to come out. Still, he chewed the meat and swallowed thickly, there only being a bone left for his tongue to push around. The finger tasted otherworldly, and the very thought of the taste made Shane shudder, and his stomach churn. The boy spit out the bones onto the table, their stark white surface covered in Shane’s saliva. 

 

“I-I… ‘m full now… sir,” Shane struggled to declare as his throat tightened up, and new tears slipped by as he thought about what he just did. 

Ricky sauntered over with an overall dissatisfied look. “Huh, you didn’t get to eat your fingers. Well, no problem! You can take that with you, maybe share with your friends downstairs.” The man yanked the barbecue fork out of Shane’s hand, eliciting a cry from the boy, but Ricky didn’t hesitate, ushering the boy along with his bowl in hand. “Now go down to the basement and be good little children!” The bloody door was opened, and Shane gently pushed to the first step. Ricky handed him the bowl, and closed the door harshly. The boy was cast into an eerie darkness alone. His eyes were sore, and still burning from the tears, and his throat was raw. He had no doubt that he looked terrible as well, but that was the last thing on his mind.

“Shane!! Shane, you’re back! Where’s Ryan?! Did he get out?” Shane whipped around to see Sara rounding the corner with haste. Something got caught in Shane’s throat, no sound coming out when he opened his mouth up to tell them the bad news. The silence hung, and Sara got visibly anxious. “Well… at least come down here and tell us what happened!”

Nodding, Shane stepped down to the concrete floor, stiffly holding the bowl in his hands. Sara tried to peer over the lip of the bowl, but Shane held it away, concerned. “Where’s Devon and TJ?,” he asked gently.

Sara’s shoulders sunk a bit. “We don’t know where TJ is. But Devon is over here.” She pointed vaguely over at some storage racks, and started to jog over to them. Shane followed close behind, taking larger strides over. Through the low light, he saw Devon holding an old cloth against the back of her head, and the way her eyes looked up to Shane with odd understanding.

“He didn’t make it, did he?” Devon’s voice was a hushed whisper, filled with fake content. 

“No… He didn’t.” Shane didn’t know what else to say. Sara made a pained squeak, but no one could move to comfort her. “But, I think we can get out. I have a plan.”

The suggestion did nothing to bring up Devon’s spirits. “We wouldn’t need a plan if you hadn’t just blindly waltzed into a stanger’s house. If we had just listened to Ryan in the first place, he’d still be here,” she mumbled more to himself than to Shane. 

The accusations, while warranted, still stung, making Shane fully aware that this whole mess was more or less his fault. Still, if he got them in, he’d get them out. “Sure, and you all can beat me up for eternity once we get out, but we need to get out first. I’m not planning on having Ryan die in vain.” His voice was hard, and determined, effectively masking his distraught.

Sara visibly gulped. “How do we do that?”

Shane sat down, placing the bowl down. The girls looked down into it, and saw the fingers. They both recoiled, but Shane was desensitized. He began, “He has keys on his belt. If we rush him at the door, we can knock him over and take the keys. Once one of us has them, we scatter again. The one with the keys will stop by the door when safe and try to find the right one to unlock it. The other two will look for TJ. When one of us finds Teej, yell so as you are leaving, and only as you are leaving!” He emphasized the last part. “We’ll have one shot. If he captures one or all of us again, he’ll be anticipating an attack at all moments.” The girls simply nodded. “Once we’re out, we go straight to the police, damn everything else, and get someone back to the house as soon as possible to give Goldsworth as little time as possible to clean up. Got it?” They nodded again, pensive looks on both of their faced. Shane let out a breath to relax himself. “We can do this.”

Devon sighed, leaning back. “I hope you’re right this time.”

No one in the basement could determine how much time had passed, but it felt like forever. The bowl of fingers still sat on the floor. Nobody was desperate enough yet. They would take turns sitting on the first step down to listen for Ricky while the other two tried to entertain themselves. 

Soon enough, Sara was on her watch when she heard heavy steps approaching the door. Sara was quick to whistle lowly, calling the other two to the door. Shane and Devon ascended rapidly, but silently. They all stood near the top, legs bunched up and prepared to launch their bodies into their captor. The door pulled open, and no one had the time to think about what they saw when they all let out a chorus of battle cries as the sprung on the adult. Without enough time to anticipate the attack, Ricky fell over, and Devon was quick to catch the glint of keys in the light. She pulled them out, and stood over the other three, holding the ring of metals up. 

Devon called, “SCATTER!,” and in an instant, the other two children slipped off quicker than lightning, and they all disappeared from Ricky’s sight. Rick could be heard yelling in frustration from any point in the house. Devon avoided the door initially, shoving the keys down her pants so they couldn’t be stolen in a flash like she had done. She slinked into a bedroom and ducked into the corner of the room where the door would open up, hiding her.

Shane veered off down a hall that landed him in a den, opting to shove himself between a bookcase and a wall. His breathing was steady and slow from forcing himself to stay calm. 

Sara ran down the same hall Shane did, but took one of side doors, which turned out to be a bathroom She grabbed a full container of conditioner and held it like a weapon.

Just like that, the hunt began. 

Ricky rushed out down the hall he saw the curly haired girl sprint down, and forced his way into the den. He only looked around for a second before he heard a door behind him open. When he turned around, there was nothing there, but he knew what he heard. He growled lowly, and stalked back down the hall again. The moment he left, Sara pulled herself out of the bathroom and began opening up the door across from hers. Inside, TJ had his fists up, ready to fight, but the sight of the sort girl made him drop his hands.

Out of breath already, Sara spurted out quietly, “Listen, here’s the deal.”

As Ricky ran down Devon’s hall, she had already left her room to try the first keys. Of 7 of them, only 4 of them looked similar to the lock style. She fumbled with the first key, and tried to shove it in, but it didn’t slide in the right way. She flipped it away and tried the second one. Nothing.

Shane thumped up beside Devon, trying his best to not look at Ryan’s corpse. “How’s it going?,” he asked quickly. 

“Only two possible options left!,” she breathed out.

“Better hide. He’ll be around soon. He’s angry, so he shouldn’t be too aware.” With that Shane was gone. Devon ditched her effort, sliding behind the chair and holding her breath. As Shane predicted, Ricky stomped in, his heavy panting full of rage that had been contained for too long. She couldn’t see anything, but she could hear him pacing. Every minute grew more tense as Devon’s lungs begged for her to breathe, but she couldn’t risk it. The sharp sound of metal sliced through the air, and the stakes were raised. Her head pounded, and she managed to convince herself that Ricky could hear her heartbeat. 

A door loudly slammed somewhere else. An obvious distraction, but it worked as Ricky followed the noise with a hunger. Devon peeked her head out, checking the area once more before slipping back out and taking her chances with the thrid key on her list. 

It slid in with ease, and when she turned it, the lock undid itself. Devon sighed in relief. Inhaling deeply, Devon screamed out as loud as she could, to the point she thought her voice might give. “MOVE OUT!” With that, she left, only casting one last glance at Ryan’s bloody carcass.

Sara and TJ had been switching rooms when Devon alerted them that the door had been opened. Immediately, their trajectory changed, turning around and bolting out into the kitchen. TJ caught sight of Ryan for the first time, but Sara didn’t give him time to scream or grieve. She frantically tugged at the larger boy’s arm, urging him towards the door. 

TJ relented, and followed her out, only able to just see Devon disappear into the welcoming teeline. Sara looked back in. “TEEJ IS OUT!” They too, were gone. Just as they took off, Ricky rounded the corner into the kitchen.

Shane had been doing his best to give Ricky false clues as to where the children were; however, they were useless when Devon called out to the rest that she got the door open. Ricky finally turned to get to the door when Sara informed that she got TJ out. Shane was hiding in the den again when Ricky left. His exit was closed temporarily. He creeped out, scanning rapidly to make sure he was stepping into safe waters. When he neared the entrance to the kitchen, Shane could see Ricky standing in the doorway, knife gripped tightly in one hand. The thin boy’s breath hitched, ducking back behind the wall and trying to keep his heart from running away. A thoughtful hum could be heard, and Shane bit his tongue.

“Five came in.” The sound of metal hitting the doorframe. “One is dead.” Slow steps. “Three left.” The cannibal’s breath. “One… lingers.” 

Shane couldn’t handle it. He bolted, running down the first hall he could find. He didn’t need to look behind himself to know that Ricky was on his tail. Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he rounded the end of the hall. Ricky was still running headlong towards Shane, launching the moment he was close enough. Shane managed to duck under, narrowly dodging the kitchen knife that was plunged into the drywall. Without time to count his lucky stars, Shane scuttled out from under Ricky and darted off again, taking his chance for the door. He ran past the table, where Ryan still lay. Shane only allowed himself one glance, the image in his mind blurred as he rushed by, and out into the wilderness. 

There was no other thought in Shane’s head as he ran. The tree trunk blurred by and the constant thought that Ricky was right there, breath thick and heavy in his ears, drowning out his own heart beat. God, he was right there, he wouldn’t stop chasing him. His chest heaved, begging him to stop. The rush of danger died off, and every bit of him ached. Shane couldn’t even tell where he was. The pattern was the same everywhere. But he couldn’t stop. He was still being chased, he could hear the breathing. 

In his urgency to keep going, Shane ran into a foreign body, bringing both of them down to the ground. He coughed, but his eyes were immediately up, scanning about for an impending doom, but there was nobody. Still, his lungs rattled.

“Shane, hey! Shane, calm down.” The soothing voice of TJ called out to the taller boy, forcing him to focus on his friend. “Hey, we’re okay.” Shane couldn’t find the strength to respond. TJ continued, “Devon already reached her house. She’s going to get her parents to drive to the police station. Sara went home. I stayed to make sure you got out.” Shane nodded robotically, eyes unfocused on TJ’s face. What was he supposed to say?

Hours passed. The kids were questioned, the house was investigated, and Ricky was apprehended. The town was steeped in the thick of night, and the four children stood under Wysteria, with no intent to talk. Every eye was trained on Shane, emotions unreadable. Shane kept his gaze to the ground, eyeing the grass that seemed to lack colour. The air was stale, and the tension was palpable. 

Devon was the first to leave, walking down the street without looking back at the group she had once called friends. She didn’t know if she could bear to look at them anymore. 

Next, Sara sauntered off, dragging her feet against the asphalt. She’d cast glances over her shoulders, confusion and sorrow written on her face. 

TJ was the last one to leave, opening his mouth once to say something, anything, but he couldn’t. He said everything that he needed to say. When he set off, he did it with his head held high, looking forward.

Shane stood underneath the draping leaves, head down, and hands in his pockets, stuck with a million apologies that were left unsaid.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I promise my other fics are much more tasteful.


End file.
